


Have Wheels, Will Babble

by BlushingDragon



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Non-Binary Apprentice, Other, Past Relationship(s), Romance, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-07 03:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13425516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlushingDragon/pseuds/BlushingDragon
Summary: Prompt: "This isn't a double date, we're just third- and fourth-wheeling."My own Asphodel x Julian with a dash of Nadortia on the side, because apparently I can only write modern AU fluff now.





	Have Wheels, Will Babble

**Author's Note:**

> Pun-filled and unoriginal title is not funny, nor particularly clever.

Asphodel could feel when something was off with their roommate. A few of their mutual classmates said it was a gift to know when Nadia the stoic law student was feeling particularly unwell: Valerius in particular mentioned that Asphodel “would have enough forewarning to escape with minimal injuries.”

Really, every one of Nadia’s habits changed when she was in a mood. She left objects lying about in their shared apartment, she didn’t punctuate her texts, and she put her feet up on the couch. If they didn’t acknowledge that living with Nadia gave them a leg up on their classmates’ “Nadia Radar” Asphodel would think everyone was blind not to see the appropriate signs of an upset Nadia.

They sat down in the one decent armchair in the apartment and placed a mug of chamomile and lavender tea on one of the coasters littering the coffee table before sliding it over to the criminology major draped over the nearby couch.  _ At least we have yet to reach the drinks without coasters stage, _ the art student thought wryly.

“Tell me all your woes, oh roommate of mine,” Asphodel encouraged her, patting one of the long brown legs that hung over armrest of the couch. 

“It’s something trivial,” Nadia deflected. “I shouldn’t—“

”I’m contractually obligated to listen to your troubles, Nadi. It’s on the lease form for the form, in the really small print,” drawled Asphodel.

Nadia sighed deeply and cradled the tea mug between her hands, breathing in the calming aroma. “I... have told you about Portia, yes?”

They flash her a smug grin as they look up from the pages of their sketchbook. “You mean the cute girl who saved you from subsisting on toast and ramen before I met you? The one who asked you out when the semester started up? Yeah, I remember. Why?” They frowned suddenly and leaned forward to ask somberly, “Are you two breaking up?”

If not for fear of dislodging today’s elaborate hairstyle, thought Asphodel, Nadia would’ve shaken her head vigorously. “No, nothing like that, thankfully. It’s just that... Portia’s car is in the shop and for the next week she must rely on her brother as a chauffeur because of my busy schedule.”

“Don’t you have a date on Thursday?”

“Yes, but I need to leave immediately after, which means I cannot pick up Portia,” Nadia said dejectedly. 

Asphodel had never actually met Ilya Julian Devorak, but Portia’s frequent animated storytelling perfectly explained the look of dread clouding Nadia’s face. They inwardly agreed: if any restaurant had to deal with Nadia’s and Julian’s melodramatic antics at once, the entire city could be doomed. 

“So you need me to come and even things out,” concluded Asphodel. 

“If you wouldn’t mind, then yes,” Nadia admitted. 

With a shrug, Asphodel reached over for their backpack and began to dig around for their pencil case. As they turned to a fresh page, they answered, “Why not? I didn’t have any Thursday plans anyway.”

Asphodel was a horrible buffer. They were fairly certain that they weren’t supposed to be staring intensely at the distracting and gangly Julian Devorak, and they were never more certain that they were supposed to have at least one eye on Nadia to gauge just how much buffering was needed.

He was just so twitchy. If Asphodel were an animator, they were sure it would be infuriating to watch, but as a painter they only had the urge to capture each of his varied expressions. Julian would drum his fingers on the table, gesture with his hands when he spoke, bounce his legs when no one had talked for a long stretch. The constant motion drew Asphodel’s eyes more than they would admit, and they were impressed with their own willpower for being able to form a sentence while so distracted. 

“So, Julian, I’m curious. Exactly how many of the stories I’ve heard about you are true?” Asphodel asked. 

To their astonishment, a pink flush painted Julian’s cheekbones. “If Portia told them, they’re more truthful than not, though I wouldn’t put it past her to exaggerate my lack of good sense,” he said with a dramatically aggrieved look at his sister, who only laughed in reply.

“What about the one where you got caught in all that rigging behind the auditorium stage and half of the drama department saw you hanging upside-down?” They asked with a slightly vindictive grin. Surely that had to be a fabrication, even Valerius wouldn’t believe that something that dramatic really happened—

Julian cleared his throat and made a nervous chuckle. “You, ah, you saw that?”

They blinked a few times, and shook their head. “Lucio said he heard it from Valerius, and he told Nadia, who told me, but I thought that jerk had made it all up!” They had to speak through their laughter as they envisioned Julian as he was before them dangling by his ankles. His auburn curls would escape their ponytail, the red knit sweater would slide down to reveal sharp hip bones—

_ Bad Asphodel _ , they thought sternly. T _ his is your roommate’s girlfriend’s brother. Out. Of. Bounds. _ Unbidden, Asphodel’s fingers twitched with the urge to sketch until they could capture the image, pin those long limbs against their pages or their sheets—

_ Well, shit. _

When Asphodel’s phone vibrated in her coat pocket, signaling the end of Nadia and Portia’s date, Asphodel almost sighed in relief. However, as Nadia bade a sweet farewell to Portia, Asphodel remembered with a sinking feeling exactly why Nadia hadn’t been able to pick up Portia in the first place. 

“Portia, darling, I have to rush off,” Nadia said, “I believe your brother promised to drive Asphodel back to the apartments?” 

“I  _ am  _ still present, you know,” Julian drawled. 

Portia grinned and laughed as brightly as a star. “Yeah, he’ll do anything I ask him to with only mild complaining,” she teased. “In fact, Ilya, I can walk home from here just fine on my own. Why don’t you go and take Asphodel to hers and meet me back home in an hour?”

The idea of an enclosed space with Julian for any length of time caused a fluttering feeling in their stomach and a twitching anxious fear to take root.  _ Oh, good, the perfect opportunity to put your foot in your mouth and irredeemably embarrass yourself, _ they thought.

The second Devorak smile made an appearance, and honest delight was what sparkled in those hazel eyes. “That sounds splendid,” said Julian, “if Asphodel doesn’t mind.”

“I don’t mind, no,” they heard themselves agree, and felt a red flush climb their neck when Portia giggled and Nadia smiled knowingly. 

As the two women walked out after paying the bill, Portia made one last remark. She declared, “Maybe we should have double-dates like this more often!” 

Asphodel would’ve prayed that Julian didn’t hear that, except that they saw his face blush darker than the delicate pink from before. Of course it was embarrassing for one’s sister to recommend a date with her girlfriend’s weird roommate. That look was embarrassment, nothing more. 

They cleared their throat suddenly, and consciously tried to speak evenly. They said, “Let’s get going then, right? Right.”

With a small smile, Julian lead them outside to his car, fiddling with the key fob as he walked. With their fingers crossed in their coat pocket, Asphodel mentally chanted  _ don’t be a Car Person, if I have any luck in the universe, please. _ Thankfully, he didn’t try to make any conversation about the perfectly unremarkable four-door sedan, and Asphodel thanked their lucky stars.

Unfortunately, their luck ran out as the most inane blather began to spill from their mouth as they sat down. “This wasn’t a double date, right? We were just… third- and fourth-wheeling.”

They saw Julian’s hands stiffen where he gripped the steering wheel, and but almost as soon as Asphodel noticed it, a smile found its way on his face. “Of course. Right. I— nevermind.” 

Asphodel wished for one of their sketchbooks or at least a pencil to fiddle with to banish the restlessness that seemed to permeate the air between them and Julian. Their eye seemed to be drawn to the lines of his hands as he drove, and they blinked in surprise as they recognized something. 

“Is that beeswax?” they blurted, and Julian almost jolted the car as he parked outside of the apartments.

“For your hands, I mean. I— I thought it was an air freshener, but there isn’t one hanging on the rearview mirror, but…” Asphodel trailed off as a shy smile turned the corners of Julian’s lips upward. 

“You recognized it? You aren’t a medical student too, are you?” Julian asked. 

Asphodel shook their head. “I had this friend who tried to convince me to go into medical school with him, said I had the steady hands for it, but these hands were made for pencils and charcoals and not much else,” they explained. They waggled their fingers for emphasis, and prompted a faint laugh from Julian. 

“I bet they’re very talented nevertheless,” he drawled with a fond look, and seconds later his eyes widened as he processed the words that escaped him. “I’m sorry, that was—”

“I understand, Foot A into Mouth B and all that, happens to me all the time,” babbled Asphodel. They unbuckled their seatbelt and put their hand on the door handle, but paused. “Can I… I know we were just at a cafe, but can I offer you some tea before you go?”

Julian brightened up at the suggestion. “Do you by any chance know of a tea with a smoky kind of taste? A— a friend of mine introduced me to it, but we’ve since parted ways and I couldn’t find it again.” 

“Lapsang souchong is sometimes called a smoked tea,” they began with a slow smile. “How about I make you a cup and we figure out your tea mystery?”

“That sounds delightful,” agreed Julian. “Shall we?”

Asphodel lead him across the parking lot and up to their apartment with a wide smile, and unlocked the front door with a flourish. “You’re the guest, Julian. After you,” they said playfully.

He brushed past them with a wink and a grin, and they sighed with exasperation and fondness. Asphodel quietly observed him as they padded into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Rather than removing his boots and folding himself up on their couch, Julian seemed entranced by one of the canvases Asphodel had hung in the living room. They leaned over the counter as they faked nonchalance, and a proud flush stained their face as they realized which painting it was. Tucked away in a corner as it was, Asphodel had hoped that it wouldn’t garner much attention, but those hopes were clearly for naught.

The oil on canvas depicted on figure sitting just on the opposite side of a grassy knoll, watching a sunset. Fragile blue flowers dotted the grass, and the auburn curls that were highlighted by the streaking sunlight shone as if they were burnished copper. With the figure’s back to the canvas, they retained a little anonymity, but with hindsight crashing into them with the subtlety of a jackhammer, Asphodel realized that they visualized that particular shade of red a little too accurately. 

“A few years ago, I shared this place with my friend, the one who tried to convince me to take medical classes. He talked about this boyfriend he had, and I painted that piece partly to indulge my imagination and to get him to shut up about his love life. Before I finished it, he’d moved out,” Asphodel blurted. They kept their gaze locked on their hands as they set out mugs and saucers almost ritualistically. 

To their surprise, Julian chuckled darkly under his breath. When he spoke, his back was turned to Asphodel and he didn’t look away from the painting. “A few years ago, I was taking a break from writing my thesis and I went looking for my… boyfriend. It had been a few weeks since we said anything substantial to each other,  and I— Well. When I realized that he just  _ left _ , I went to the one place that didn’t remind me of him: the auditorium. It was opening night for some production, and the set crew was on-stage. One of the crew had a streak of violet paint on their cheek, and they stood off-stage, just watching the stagehands moving the backdrops. A spare brush, one of the little thin ones, was stuck handle-end into their messy bun, and I wanted to say that they looked adorable.”

Asphodel remembered that job: for a few hundred dollars, they had volunteered to be the set manager for the drama club. Asra hadn’t been home that night, or the night after, but once that month’s play was finished, his boxed up belongings had vanished while Asphodel attended a cast and crew party. They had cried when they saw the bare closet space. However, now was not a time for tears. 

“Well, I’m still open to receiving compliments from charming men, but I’m afraid my face is free of paint today,” said Asphodel. They poured the two cups of tea, and when they looked up once more, Julian stared at them with unabashed surprise.

With a shaky, hesitant smile and, contrastingly, very steady hands, he took the saucer and mug from them. He sat on the high stools that lined the counter, and cupped his hands around the warm ceramic. 

“Perhaps we should do these, ah, “third- and fourth-wheel” things more often?” Julian said. His voice tightened, and he stared into his drink rather than look at Asphodel. 

They grinned, an expression sharp with relief and delight, and reached across the cold stone counter to cradle one cheek in their cupped hand. They pressed with their fingers to tilt Julian’s head up to look him in the eyes, and the muscle in their chest clenched at the sorrowful and nearly-buried hope in his hazel eyes. 

“I don’t know, Julian. I think Nadia and Portia would be pretty disappointed if we never went on any double-dates with them again,” they said. It took some will to keep their voice steady, but the soft and suddenly confidant smile from Julian made the effort worth it.

“I’d like that,” he murmured. He turned his head to press a fleeting kiss in the palm of Asphodel’s hand, and the action sent a prickle of heat up their neck. 

They could see his eyes follow the blush, and they abruptly cleared their throat and pulled their hand back to cup their own beverage. They pleaded, “Don’t make me vault over this counter to try to get you back for that, Julian. The urge is difficult to resist, but there are too many scalding liquids around for that kind of behavior.”

Julian grinned wide even as the tips of his ears turned pink. “Perhaps another time and place for that, then,” he agreed. He hesitantly sipped his tea, and all at once the broad lines of his shoulders eased just the slightest amount. They couldn’t stop the faintest twitch of their fingers, aching once again to draw this wildly expressive man, and Asphodel drank their own tea to disguise the intent in their gaze. Instead of a melancholy memory, they tasted tasted a new beginning.


End file.
